


Coffee Breaks

by stepOnMeZenos



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Coffee, Dreams, Gen, The Author does not drink coffee and would like to apologise for any inaccuracies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:13:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27104005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stepOnMeZenos/pseuds/stepOnMeZenos
Summary: No matter how long it has been, both Lucifer and Sandalphon still think back to the old days.
Relationships: Lucifer & Sandalphon (Granblue Fantasy)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4
Collections: Trick or Treat Exchange 2020





	Coffee Breaks

The soft trickle of coffee being poured into a mug is the only sound in the garden, aside from the soft humming of some insect or another. An oh so familiar aroma reaches Lucifer's nose as Sandalphon straightens and turns around to him.

“I hope this is better than last time...“ 

Much as he tries to hide it, Lucifer clearly hears the traces of embarrassment in his voice. The last time he attempted to brew a cup of coffee for Lucifer, it ended up being completely undrinkable, so bitter was it. Only with great effort was he able to keep himself from spitting it out immediately. Sandalphon tried his best, and it would have been unkind to treat his effort like that. 

It took a long time for Sandalphon to stop apologising for ruining their coffee break. In truth, however, Lucifer cherishes the memory. Sandalphon offering to take over the coffeemaking duty feels… nice, even if he needs a few more tries to get it right. And it isn't as if he himself has never produced any vile conctions before. He's tried it many times before ever serving any of his brews to Sandalphon.

“I'm sure it will be fine,“ he says. 

Sandalphon picks up the cup and walks over to the small table in the middle of the garden, where Lucifer sits, in the spot always illuminated by warm sunlight. 

Then he trips. 

The cup flies out of his hand, travelling along a perfect arc before it collides with Lucifer's uppermost right ring and stains it black-brown with hot coffee. 

Lucifer jumps up and catches a stumbling Sandalphon before he can fall. “Are you alright?“

“I'm sorry,“ Sandalphon stammers. “Your wing—I didn't mean to—“

“It's fine,“ Lucifer says. The hot liquid does ache against his wing a little, but it's hardly even worth mentioning. He'll just clean it off later. Any damage will heal quickly. 

But Sandalphon wrings his hand in response. “It's not fine. I—at least let me help you clean it off.“ 

That, Lucifer has no objection to. He shakes off as much as he can while Sandalphon runs to grab water and a towel. There's probably a way to clean the wing with his powers, but then, he's never liked using them for frivolous things like this. 

Sandalphon returns. Lucifer stretches his wing out and angles it so that his fellow primal beast can easily reach the affected area. The cool water Sandalphon pours over the feathers feels soothing. 

“The stains aren't coming out,“ Sandalphon says, voice thick with frustration. “What do I do? I can't scrub your _feathers_...“ 

Lucifer shrugs, the motion carrying over to his wings and knocking Sandalphon's hand off. “It doesn't matter. I'll molt sooner or later. Until then, we have matching wings.“ 

As Sandalphon looks at his own mottled brown wings, Lucifer silently questions just what Sandalphon did to the coffee beans to stain even his wings. Mud and dirt wash right off on the rare occasion any of it gets on the feathers. This coffee, it appears, is made of sterner stuff. 

He laughs.

“What's so funny?“ Sandalphon asks. 

“This situation,“ Lucifer answers. “I don't believe anyone has ever spilled coffee on me.“

“You don't have to call me out like that...“ 

Lucifer shakes his head, then pulls Sandalphon into the empty chair. “Come, sit with me. We can still enjoy the biscuits, right?“

“Right...“ Sandalphon picks up a cookie and nibbles on it, even though he's still scowling at himself. 

It's a peaceful day in the gardens. A rare luxury at times, but as long as he has these, he will…

Lucifer opened his eyes. 

The garden looked much the same as it had back then. He'd taken care to maintain it even after the failed rebellion, even though he was the only one still using it. Unlike in his dream, however, night had long fallen, shrouding the flowers in deep shadows. It was silent here, now.

Unlike the dreams he saw on the rare occasion that he allowed himself to nap, Sandalphon had not set foot in here in a long, long time. 

Lucifer sighed and rose. There was no point in lingering here. Duty never ceased, and he had no intention of neglecting it. 

His gaze caught on to the bean mill and the cups stacked on the side table. They, too, had been here since those halcyon days. They'd need a little cleaning to be usable again, as he so rarely had the leisure to make himself a cup or two, but… no, he wouldn't do it now either. Matters in the sky realm demanded his attention.

Did Sandalphon, too, still dream of their shared coffee breaks, Lucifer wondered as he spread his wings and took off into the boundless blue sky. Did he remember these times with fondness of resentment?

Yet another question to file away along with all the other ones he would never get an answer to. He would not, could not open the seal on Pandemonium purely to satisfy his own selfish curiosity.

_Did you never treasure these moments like I did? Did they never mean as much to you as they did to me? Did I do wrong by you?_

But in the end, duty prevailed.

Even if he sometimes wished it did not.

The burr mill uniformly grinds the expertly roasted coffee beans into fine fragments, exactly as they should be. If the coffee ground is uneven, the fragments will brew at different rates, thus failing to extract the full flavour of some while drawing out bitter substances from others. An undesirable outcome Sandalphon learned to avoid during his experiments. 

He places the ground beans in the coffee press. Before he pours the hot water, he does one final temperature check. As the thermometer adjusts, he's keenly aware of Lucifer sitting behind him. Watching him, probably. 

He takes a deep breath. It's not going to turn out like the last—and first—time he made coffee for Lucifer. He did his homework. He knows how to make coffee now. 

In goes the piston, holding the coffee ground down while he pours the water. It has the right temperature. The stopwatch is right there, ensuring he won't let it overbrew again. What can go wrong? 

It smells right, at least. Like the coffee Lucifer brews. 

“I hope this is better than last time...“ 

It has to be, right? It can't possibly be worse. But if it is, somehow, and he ruins their coffee break again… 

“I'm sure it will be fine,“ Lucifer says. 

The stopwatch rings, and he takes the coffee press and pours the coffee into a separate carafe, so that the grounds won't turn it bitter over time. Then he prepares a cup for Lucifer and turns around to bring it to the little table. 

Before this day, he had never noticed how much the flowering bush's roots protruded from the ground. After this day, they will no longer be there, on account of him ripping them out. 

_On_ this day, however, his foot catches onto the root. He stumbles, instinctively letting go of the teacups to catch himself, and then watches in horror as the cup flies throught the air. It seems as if every second is an eternity unto itself before the cup collides with Lucifer's beautiful white wing. The cup shatters on the ground. The coffee remains on the pristine white feathers, leaving an ugly black stain on them. 

No. No no no. This can't be happening. He can't possibly find an entirely new way to ruin their coffee breaks… 

Lucifer reassures him, of course, as he always does, but it still. How is he to find a purpose for himself if he can't even prepare a cup of coffee properly without messing it all up? 

But, as Lucifer says, they do still have the biscuits, and it isn't as if he's going to ignore and invitation from him to eat them…

Sandalphon jerked awake. The awfully familiar sight of his cell in Pandemonium greeted him. How long had it been since those peaceful days…? How long since the day he had learned his true purpose, or lack thereof? It was so easy to lose track of the time here, in this unchanging prison. A year? A hundred? A thousand?

With a bitter sneer, he sat up. How he wished he could simply make these dreams stop, but no; every time he fell asleep, they returned to haunt him. Halcyon days, indeed. What had seemed to idyllic at the time had been nothing but lies, designed to placate the worthless spare. Even Lucifer…

He'd played the act so well. Sandalphon had believed every word he'd said, trusted all the little acts of kindness, but none of it could have been genuine. The breaks in the garden Sandalphon had cherished so had never been anything but a façade.

Matching wings. As if. Lucifer had never seen him as an equal, had he?

And despite knowing that, despite knowing the truth behind his creation, still he wished for nothing more than to go back to those days. 

_Lie to me some more, Lucifer..._

But no matter how much he might wish otherwise, now that he knew the truth, there was no going back.


End file.
